The Laurens Intermission
by funsizedforever
Summary: Alex and John are theater geeks that have been dating for about two years. Alex is always in the spotlight, while John is behind the scene in stage crew. What happens when Alexander's night ends in a hospital room? Dedicated to Patrick ;) (yourfavperson. omiche on insta)


MODERN AU

"Alex, you'll do great. Stop stressing, babe." John slips me a quick kiss before I go on stage for the opening night of our senior musical, Heathers. Two things: 1. Heathers is so legit, 2. I have the best boyfriend ever.

We've been together since sophomore year, after being best friends our entire lives. John was the first to come to his senses and ask me to Homecoming, and I gladly accepted. Now we've been going strong for over two years. We're both going to Columbia in the fall, too. It's going to be great.

"You know, no one could play JD as well as you." John says and winks as he helps me finishes my makeup.

"Except for Ryan McCartan," I say, laughing slightly.

"OK, maybe he has better eyebrows than you, but that's totally it. Come on Alex, you got this, you know you do." And he's right. I know I do, just like I always do. I've been the lead in every production I've ever been in, even in kindergarten. I think that's why I'm so hated, yet so loved. My posse of best friends/boyfriend, Hercules Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette, and John, then my worst enemies, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and Aaron Burr.

To be honest, I wouldn't trade anything about my life. It's my last thought before I go onstage, and everything changes, nothing to ever be the same again.

"Go on and freeze your brain… Try it." I say as the song finishes, with wild applause accompanying the end of the music. I feel that familiar high I get everytime I'm onstage and people clap for me. Everything starts to blur until intermission. But, it's a positive blur, an acclamation from my own brain.

"Great job, babe!" John runs up to me and gives me a hug after I get offstage.

"Thanks, but you know I couldn't have done it without you." And it's true. John is my practicing partner for everything. He's actually really good, and I never understood why he didn't try out. He has so much talent, but it is his choice to not show it. That's ok. As long as he's happy, I'm happy, too.

"You know, sometimes I wonder if I should be jealous of Mariah," John says jokingly, and points to the girl who plays Veronica. "I mean, that whole Dead Girl Walking thing must be pretty uncomfortable for you." I blush at this, but it was true. I just have to keep Laurens in my head. Not that I pretend that it's him on stage with me… but it helps.

"You have NOTHING to worry about, believe me. If I was straight, I would want to be gay because of her. She's a terror." I smile at John and he smile at me and then the moment was over when Thomas FREAKING SNEEZED.

"Well," John says, looking down at the floor, "you better get ready for act two."

"Hey," I say, tilting up his chin, "our love is God."

"We're what killed the dinosaurs." He smiles, and walks to props to grab what I need for my next scene. Sure, our overused theater references suck, but what can I say? They're cheesy, but it's something we enjoy. Its ours. We sneak another kiss, and then I'm back onstage.

I'm singing 'Meant to be Yours' in record time, and the whole time I'm thinking of John. I see John everyday in everything I do.

I walk backstage as Mariah sings 'Dead Girl Walking Reprise.' As she finishes a shot rings out, the gun is swiftly handed to me, and the scuffling of many feet and whispers are heard behind me as I'm shoved onstage.

Before I am able to go find out what is going on, I am forced to bow on stage in front of a slightly concerned audience. That concern is not very slight after they are told what has happened backstage.

Backstage, someone is on the phone, hopefully with 911. "Yes, he's injured badly. We need an ambulance immediately. Do we need one?" Lafayette exclaims. "For fuck's sake, he got shot!" He yells into the phone.

Who got shot? Before I can find out I'm onstage for bows, then offstage again. I see people huddled in the corner and go to them.

"What the hell is going on?" I demand and I see fear in their eyes before George, the director, tells me.

"Alex, someone put real bullets in the gun for 'Meant to be Yours,' and beforehand the gun accidentally went off when he was handing it to someone else. There's a crew member at the hospital getting surgery now. It doesn't look good, but there's still hope…" He trails off as I walk away. The whole time during this conversation, I had been wondering who had been shot.

Shaken by the current situation, I try to get out of there as soon as possible. It seemed that they didn't need for there anymore. The theater had cleared out, and the building was nearly empty, except for the crew and cast.

However, someone from the crew was missing.

And then… it hit me.

"Fuck, fuck fuck," I mumble repeatedly. This was bad, this was really really bad. No one saw it coming.

I sprinted across the parking lot. And I got in my car and drove to Revolutionary Hospital, the nearest one in our small town of South Carolina.

I get a nurse to tell me where his room is and run there as I walk up the stairs. I embrace myself for impending doom.

I run over to John, tears already washing down my face. John, it was John that had gotten shot.

The last person I would ever want this to happen to. My best friend, my boyfriend, my safe haven. The world would be a living hell if he died this night. I collapse into the chair right beside him. I can't believe what I'm seeing and what I'm hearing. I can't consume my surroundings.

"Is Mr. Hamilton here?" The doctor asks as he walked into the room.

"Present." I raise my hand weakly and grab onto John's hand, dangling over his bedrail.

"John's parents are out of town and told me to trust you with the decision of what to do. We can put him to a medically induced coma on life support that we will eventually take him off of or let him die naturally. The choice is yours, but I think you know what to do."

This was the hardest choice I would ever make in my entire life. I would feel somewhat selfish for keeping him on life support for my own mental stability. But I would hate myself for letting him go so soon. I just had to accept the heartbreaking fact that John was not going to get any better, and would pass eventually.

I nod and whisper in his ear what I want. He nods back and pats me on the back. I can barely wait until he leaves the room before I completely lose it.

"I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. You don't deserve this. I love you. You know I love you, right? Well I do, if you didn't know. Please don't die tonight."

I couldn't breath in this room. I needed out, but I couldn't leave him. I couldn't see in this room, but I need to see him one last time. I couldn't speak in this room, but I needed to tell him how much I loved him.

"I can't live or love without you. I won't ever love anyone again. How can I? Goddammit, John! Why does Mariah try to ruin this, ruin us? Why do you have to ruin us?" I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Don't hate me. I love you. I'll love you forever and always."

I see John's steady breathing get more and more labored as more and more tears stream down my face. The heart monitor beeping in the background makes me feel woozy, and makes the situation seem even more surreal.

"What about Columbia? Us graduating together and enjoying ourselves. What about us getting married and having kids? What about us growing old together. Nevermind, it doesn't matter. You're here right now. I love you." I lean over and kiss his cheek one last time. It's innocent, just like him.

My heart was beating faster and harder than ever. My body was numb and shaking. I could barely see anything because of the tears, and I was wiping my eyes numerously and aggressively so I could see him as much as possible

"I love you, I love you, I love you. Goodbye." I whisper in his ear, and as I pull back up, I hear a single beep. A single, long beep that would never stop. A fucking machine that seemed to decide the life of my life. It needs to stop. I need to stop. Everything needed to stop. I need to stop. Everyone needed to shut up.

Does anyone care that he's gone? He's gone. Those words halted in my mouth. I didn't want to say them because if I did it would be true.

I would never say those words.

I will never open up my mouth to present those two fucking words

"He's. Gone."


End file.
